November light

Something about November makes me sad in a not-so-awful way. It's the long-goodbye light that casts everything— from water to mood — in a tender, ending sad.

The garden is forgotten

in November’s thin light. Shadows yawn

sad and I am surrounded by things we

covet, yet forget:

sunflowers, a tomato’s full curve, the snap

of carrots — wilted from a rigored season.

Now tomatoes lie bruised, sunflowers quiet

and leggy. Even the crabgrass is worn with

effort. Something inside me swells in

this frail autumn glow. I don’t know if

it is fatigue or forever.

— From Forecast, a word-art collaboration featuring poems by Drew Myron and interpretive paintings by Tracy Weil. Special Edition Exhibition Book and prints are available at www.weilworks.com/forecast.

Comments

[Cheryl Hicks]

I love the poem. It is full of great images. I connect with the irony of coveting and forgetting, too. But it is the last line that I will remember for a long time. Very provocative.

[drew]

Thanks Cheryl. So great to get feedback.

Speaking of which, I visited your blog. I love the word strip piece you are creating. Such a great idea and process. I hope you'll post more as the wrok progresses.